ok back upon no incidents
in which he had played the part which men of the world pride themselves
on playing well. Women were mysterious and wonderful to him. Because
of one he approached them all with a feeling not far from worship; and
he had no intention of doing a dishonorable thing. Puzzled,
self-accusing--although he did not quite know of what he was guilty--he
sat down as he had done several weeks before on the bench in the Avenue
des Acacias. With extraordinary promptness, as if arranged by a
scene-setter, a girl's figure came quickly out of a side alley. She
was young--her figure betrayed it. She went quickly over to a seat and
sat down. She was weeping and covered her face with her hands.
Bulstrode, this time without hesitation, went directly over to her:

"My dear Miss Desprey----"

She sprang up and displayed a face disfigured with weeping.

"_You_!" she exclaimed with something like terror. "Oh, Mr. Bulstrode!"

Her words shuddered in sobs.

"Don't stay here! Why did you come? Please go--please."

Bulstrode sat down beside her and took her hands.

"I'm not going away--not until I know what your trouble is. You were
in distress when I first saw you here and you wouldn't let me help you
then. Now you can't refuse me. What is it?"

He found she was clinging to his hands as she found voice enough to say:

"No, I can't tell you. I couldn't ever tell you. It's not the same
trouble, it's a new one and worse. I guess it's the worst thing in the
world."

Bulstrode was pitiless:

"One that has come lately to you?"

"Oh, yes!"

She was weeping more quietly now.

"Please leave me: please go, Mr. Bulstrode."

"A trouble with which I have had anything to do?"

She waited a long time, then faintly breathed:

"Yes."

The hand he firmly held was gloveless and cold--before he could say
anything further she drew it away from him and cried:

"Oh, I ought never to have let you guess! You were so good and kind,
you meant to help me so, but it's been the worst help of all, only you
couldn't know that," she pleaded for him. "Please forgive me if I seem
ungrateful, but if I had known that I was going to suffer like this I
would have wished never to see you in the world."

Bulstrode was trying to speak, but she wouldn't let him:

"I never can see you again. Never! You mustn't come any more."

But here she half caught her breath and sobbed with what seemed naive
and adorable daring: